What's In A Name?
by PJ XD
Summary: 16 year old Narcissa Black thinks about what it means to be a Black... and whether she even wants to do it anymore. one-shot.


Black used to be such a proud name. A name I declared with a flourish. When people would ask me my name, which was often, as I was overlooked and overshadowed by my two far more brilliant and far more outspoken older sisters. I was pretty, and sweet, and virtually silent. But oh! I would pray for that moment, that one, shiny moment before anyone actually got to know me, got to realise that I was unextraordinary, that moment when somebody asked me my name and I could reply, "Narcissa Black."

In that second, I would watch as people's eyes widened, as their smiles grew, and just for a heartbeat, I would be the most powerful, the most respected person in the room to them. I would have their undivided attention.

Not anymore.

Now, I don't relish that moment in the slightest. I cringe when asked to introduce myself, because I know when I say "Narcissa Black" the person I'm talking to will look at me with sympathy, with pity and with, in some cases, scorn and derision. My parents were ashamed to call themselves Blacks, because the Black family had given birth to the one of the biggest blood traitors the wizarding world had ever seen. And in our social circles, blood traitor was right up there with mudblood on their blacklists.

My own sister Andromeda is a blood traitor. Bella was furious when she found out that Andy was eloping with Ted Tonks, a muggleborn Hufflepuff in her year at Hogwarts. She, like our parents, screamed and raged and threw things at the walls, usually glass ornaments that made impressively frightening shattering sounds. She swore blindly that the day Andromeda set one foot into the Black manor again, unless it was because she had come to her senses, would be her last. But of course, Bella would say that. Bella adores the idea of blood purity almost as much as she adores her master, the Dark Lord. I pretended to agree when she asked, but in truth, the Dark Lord terrified me. He still does. I'm scared to breathe around him, in case I do it wrongly, or offend him in some way.

That isn't the only thing I don't agree with Bellatrix on. There is a secret part of me that is jealous of Andromeda, which wishes that I could trade places with her. It would be horrible, obviously, being the family pariah, but that freedom to be whoever you wanted to be, that security in knowing that you were in love, and that your family's opinion didn't matter... yes, I envy her that. I know she's somewhere out there, being happy and in love, and in that sense, I wish it were me, even if that meant falling in love with a mudblood. The closest thing I have is an idiotic unrequited crush on Lucius Malfoy, a soon-to-be seventh year prefect in my house, and that is as unrealistic as the moon being made of cheese, or a muggle being able to do magic.

And, I wouldn't say this out loud, but Andromeda Tonks has a nice ring to it.

Sirius, my first year cousin, is shaping up to be the next Andy; I can feel it in my bones. His best friend is a pureblood, true, but James Potter's parents are friends to muggles everywhere, and to top it all, Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor. That caused a bit of a ruckus at family gatherings for a few months. I mean, it was bad enough when Andy was sorted into Ravenclaw, but Gryffindor? Where dwell the brave at heart! My grandfather would be spinning in his grave.

I don't care though. I like Sirius. He's a nice kid – a little too full of himself, but sweet to me. I cried when Andy left – Sirius cheered. That's typical of him.

I don't like the way he bullies that Snape boy. Not at all. Maybe it's because he's in Slytherin, like me, or maybe it's because he is just so unfortunate, but Severus Snape evokes a lot of sympathy in me. I bet it's because I've seen him with the Gryffindor girl, and I know that look in his eyes all too well. That look of unrequited love and hopelessness. I am that look, whenever I catch Lucius's eye, or whenever I hear somebody at the Hufflepuff table mentioning Andy Tonks. I wish I could still see my sister, just to tell her that I love her.

Sometimes, I wish I wasn't Narcissa Black at all.

Sometimes, I wish names didn't matter.

Sometimes, I wish I was just me.


End file.
